


Like Home

by apiscespossum



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26247328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apiscespossum/pseuds/apiscespossum
Summary: "He follows, gravitating towards her like a satellite, reaching for her long before he closes the gap between them." Pure sweet, fluffy gooeyness.
Relationships: Riley Blue/Will Gorski
Kudos: 26





	Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've had sitting in my google docs for years. If it seems familiar to you, I did have it posted on tumblr around 2015 or 2016. I recently came across it again and decided to post it somewhere more accessible.

She’s smaller than he remembers. It’s almost surreal, he thinks, as she pads across the floor of his apartment to peer out the window at the train tracks. She’s…tiny. He follows, gravitating towards her like a satellite, reaching for her long before he closes the gap between them. She’s fascinated, once again, eyes wide and transfixed beyond the glass. He rests a hand on the small of her back and, seemingly out of instinct, she leans back and rests her weight against him and that’s when he really notices.  
She’s a full head shorter than him.  
For some reason that he can’t pinpoint, this absolutely delights him. He’s laughing before he can stop himself and he immediately feels terrible because his sudden outburst startles her and she jumps about a foot in the air. He expects her to whirl away from him but instead she grips his arm with both hands, holds on tightly, looks up at him in bewilderment. His mouth goes dry when he meets her hazel gaze and his laughter ceases immediately and he feels himself melt, feels his entire being soften. He knows he probably looks ridiculous, what with the way he’s staring at her with something in between awe and disbelief, but she smiles at him anyway. It’s a slow, shy smile, but it’s still a smile. “Sorry,” he manages, and his hand is on the small of her back again, caressing her through the soft wool of her oversized sweater. “I didn’t mean—it was just—oh, uh—er—sorry…”  
Her grip on his arm loosens and her shoulders visibly relax. “It’s okay,” she says, words twisting around her accent, and he feels his heart sputter and stall like a bad engine before it picks up double time. He wants to kiss her. Needs to kiss her. His eyes dart down to her lips. She’s got her bottom lip between her teeth. Her thumb rubs against his forearm. “What’s so funny?”  
Words fail him. He thinks that’s how it will always be. His words will forever die on his tongue, be extinguished before they even reach his lips, as long as he has her to look at. He’s touching her, his hand still on her back, but suddenly it’s not enough. It will never be enough. He pulls her towards him and she makes a soft sound of surprise, a quiet little gasp, but she slips her arms around his neck and presses herself against him and holds on. He tucks her head beneath his chin and feels her warm breath against his neck, her lips just barely brushing against the hollow at the base of his throat. A shiver rolls up his spine and he brings her impossibly closer. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and, finally, says, “I never noticed how small you are.”  
She laughs quietly. “I’m really not.” Her fingers trace random patterns across his upper back. “You’re just used to me in heels.”  
There’s a pause during which his brow furrows and he slides his hands up her back to grip her shoulders. He gently pushes her away and looks down. “Huh.” Sure enough, he catches sight of her bare feet. She wiggles her toes and when he looks up, she’s doing that thing that drives him absolutely crazy. Her head is tilted to one side and she’s peering up at him from beneath her eyelashes and her bottom lip is caught between her teeth again and the sun is filtering in through the window behind her in just the right way and she’s blindingly beautiful.  
He cups her face then, his thumbs caressing the gentle curves and planes of her face, and her eyes flutter closed. She turns her face into his hand, leans into his touch, and presses a kiss to his palm. “Thank you.”  
His thumbs still against her cheeks. He’s confused, bewildered, baffled even. “For what?”  
She reaches up and rests her hands over his. “I don’t know…” She shakes her head, a small crease forming between her dark brows as she thinks. “Everything. Like I said, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you and…now that applies to more than one occasion.”  
“Riley. Hey.” He slides a hand beneath her chin and tilts her head up. A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth before she even opens her eyes. “I’m never going to let anything happen to you.”  
“I know.” Riley grins and gives a little bounce, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Still. Thank you. For that, for this—” She lays one of her hands against his chest. “—and for letting me stay with you.”  
“Riles.” The laughter in his voice is evident and he sees her turn her face to the side and try to hide her grin in the big grey cardigan that falls over her shoulders. “I asked you to move in. I should be thanking you.”  
There’s mischief dancing in her eyes now. She shrugs her narrow shoulders, still grinning. “Well, if you insist,” she sighs dramatically, reaching out and resting her hands on his shoulders. His hands find her hips almost instinctively and she angles herself closer, pushing her chest against his. He thinks he can feel her heartbeat, thrumming just as madly as his own. “Start thanking me whenever you’re ready, Gorski.”  
There’s something about the way his name sounds in her voice, cradled by her accent, that makes his fingers flex against her hips, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “I love you,” he tells her and the way he says it makes it sound more like a promise than anything.  
“I know,” she says again and she stands up on her toes and rests her forehead against his. His vision is filled with nothing but the greens and yellows of her eyes. When she speaks again, she’s overcome with emotion and her voice shakes. “I can feel it, Will. Every day, I can feel it.” Her nose glides along the underside of his jaw as she nuzzles into him, her hands curling into fists as she grips the front of his shirt.  
“What does it feel like?” he asks, running his fingers through her hair, trying to keep his voice steady, but she’s pressing kisses all along his throat and it’s suddenly incredibly hard to focus.  
She pauses, her lips hovering just beside his ear. He hears her inhale and, ultimately, hears the wobble in her voice when she says, “Like home.”  
He feels the unmistakable prickle of tears burning in his eyes and he steels himself by wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her so close that her feet leave the floor. She makes no sound of protest. Instead, she kisses the shell of his ear and then takes his face between her hands and levels her gaze at him and he’s never seen her look so serious. “I love you,” she states firmly. “I love you. I love you.” She punctuates each declaration with a kiss, leaving lipstick marks on his forehead, his nose, both of his cheeks, his eyelids, his chin. Her voice drops to a whisper and he feels her desperation, feels how urgently she’s trying to share the feeling with him, to convey to him exactly what his love feels like.  
But he knows. He’s felt hers all along.  
He kisses her full on the mouth, cutting her off, and she responds eagerly, her fingertips exploring the planes of his face as she tries to memorize him for the hundredth time. Her lips are soft, even when she’s kissing him so fiercely that it makes him dizzy. His hands leave her waist and they slide down, down until he’s cupping the backs of her thighs and she sighs into his mouth, knowing what he wants and agreeing wholeheartedly. She breaks the kiss just long enough to give a little hop and he catches her with ease. Her legs find his waist and her ankles lock behind him, bare heels pressing into his spine.  
This new position has given her leverage and she’s above him now, her hair falling against his face as she gazes down at him. Her pupils are blown, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed, and a lazy grin teases its way across her mouth. “Oh,” she murmurs, her voice low and thick and husky. “I get it now. You were right.” Her thighs tighten and the feeling has him digging his fingers into her flesh. “Being taller is…nice.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Mm, I like being up here.” She kisses him softly and he admires her restraint. “Don’t let me down.”  
“Never,” he vows and her expression softens for a brief moment and he loves her, oh god, he loves her, and then her lips are on his again and she whispers just two words into his mouth.  
Like home.


End file.
